The Fighter
by QueenOfTheUniverse
Summary: Nick married an angel, but thanks to Ecklie, he was left with a branded man, who’s scars, both mental and physical, might never heal completely. How deep does true love run? Ask Greg, and he’ll tell you it’s deeper than your DNA. NG, Perverse AU.
1. vignette 1

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #1

A/N: This is a heartbreaking story told through a series of ten vignettes. I'd been looking for a story based on Simon and Garfunkel's song "The Boxer" for a long time when this idea hit me last week. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"_In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade_

_And he carries the reminder of every glove that laid him down or cut him_

'_Til he cried out in his anger and his shame_

_I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains."_

_-Simon and Garfunkel "The Boxer"_

* * *

_July 2013_

Greg walked hand in hand with Nick down the strip, the sun just beginning to set behind them. Neither one was saying anything, but they didn't have to. After everything they'd been through together their silence was easy and comfortable. Greg was happiest when he was in Nick's presence, simply holding hands, letting their fingers intertwine, connecting them.

"Oh my God, would you look at that?" a young male voice gossiped nearby, loud enough for Greg to hear. "That's a hot guy!"

"Ooohh, he sure is! But look at the ugly hag on his arm. Such a waste of a beautiful man."

He knew who they were talking about. At their voices Greg was conscious of his jagged nose as well as the visible scars on his hands and face, never mind the uglier ones they couldn't see beneath his shirt. He wasn't ashamed of his appearance anymore. Nick had seen to that years ago. He was comfortable with who he was, positively sure Nick loved him even with all of his deformities.

"Mmmm... I could jump him right now, he's so hot!"

Greg's head shot to the side at this last comment and he saw three guys in tight jeans and t-shirts watching them pass by, all of their eyes glued to Nick as if they were starving lions and he was a piece of meat. His calm comfort was gone in an instant as he lunged for the three men, intent on taking them out. It wasn't long ago when someone else had said something similar, when Greg had been forced to fight for his love. The memories and the scars, both mental and physical, would stay with him forever, as would the instincts he'd gathered. These boys would never understand what he'd been through, what he had with Nick.

The three men were lucky Nick caught his arm just in time and pulled him back flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around him for a moment to calm him down without saying a word.

"Looks like you've got a handful there," one of the men suggested to Nick. "Wanna upgrade?"

Greg felt the anger burning inside him begin to deflate with the older man's strong arms around him, though he was still struggling to get at them, to be able to make them understand. His anger would never completely dissipate and only Nick fully understood and accepted it. "G, come on. Let it go, it's ok," Nick finally spoke low in Greg's ear so no one else could hear him.

Nick steered him away from the men, keeping an arm around Greg's shoulders.

"You sure you don't wanna upgrade? I can treat you real well in my bed!"

Nick only flashed them his left hand, letting them see the silver band on his third finger. The three of them fell silent as he and Greg walked on.

The younger man had left the ring years ago... but the fighter still remained.


	2. vignette 2

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #2

_December 2003_

Greg's eyes were covered in a dark cloth but he still felt dizzy and he still hurt all over. The SUV rumbled along the street. He sat still, his back stiff. Someone else sat beside him, though he didn't know who it was.

The SUV came to a sudden screeching halt, throwing him forward. He heard the door beside him open and hands were pushing him out... he was falling and hitting hard pavement where he already hurt. Then he was rolling and coming to a stop as the vehicle sped off.

Somewhere close by another car door slammed shut.

"Nicky?" he heard himself whimper.

There was only one place he wanted to be just then as feet came pounding toward him. His vision wasn't entirely clear as he lay on the ground wondering if someone would hurt him because his blindfold had come off. He thought he was staring at pavement before he heard heavy, frantic, breathing nearby and gentle hands turning him over. It looked like Nick... Nick with trembling lips and tears falling from his eyes to land on Greg's face.

"Nicky?"

"Thank God you're alright!" Nick's voice came out as a strangled sob.

Greg felt himself being pulled into Nick's arms and welcomed the warm, comforting embrace. The metallic taste of blood seemed a constant flow from his split lip and the gash on his cheek was probably still bleeding as well. His shirt was wet, but whether it was from sweat or blood, he didn't know.

"Come on, let's get you home and cleaned up. You're gonna be ok."

But even through Nick's assurances he could still feel his husband's tears running down his own face.

"I'm not a fighter," he heard himself whisper.

"You're going to have to be. There isn't a choice anymore."


	3. vignette 3

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #3

_December 2003_

"Oh, you look awful, Sanders," Conrad Ecklie commented when Nick walked into the lab beside Greg. "Even with all that makeup on. Wow." The man gave a low whistle.

"It's Sanders-Stokes to you!" Greg spat out.

"By law, and in your work records, you're still Sanders. I don't have to recognize your hyphenation."

"Yeah, well, I wish you would," Nick didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to, in order to let his disdain for the man show through his words and his posture. "You know what you're doing isn't right. I can't let you hurt him like this. Why won't you just let us go. If you don't like us that much... we'll leave. There's no need to force..."

"Force? The funny thing is, Stokes, I didn't force anyone to do anything. Your partner here chose to fight for you, so that you wouldn't lose your job because of him. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised. I thought he wanted out in the field so badly. I never dreamed he'd take you over field work, that he would willingly stay in the lab just for you. I never thought Sanders had it in him."

"Come on, lovebirds! Grissom's handing out assignments." Catherine Willows called from down the hall.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be right there," Nick told their coworker. "Now see, she doesn't care that we're together... so why do you?"

But Ecklie ignored the question, turning his dark eyes on Greg. "I still don't understand why you chose to fight for him. I mean, look at you. You look terrible. Why would you ruin your good looks just for him?"

Greg stood up straighter beside Nick. "That's something you'll never understand."


	4. vignette 4

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #4

_January 2004_

Greg entered the caged ring, escorted by two men holding both of his arms in tight grips. Once he was let go he looked up into the crowd surrounding him, looking for two people, one of whom was sitting right in the front row, an evil smile on his face, as if he were looking forward to the upcoming fight.

The other man, he knew wouldn't be there, as much as he wanted him to be, to offer silent support. At the same time, he didn't want him to see this happening. Nick would be there for him in the end, to take him home and take care of him, to offer him fresh clothes and throw out his bloodied and torn jeans and t-shirt.

Another fighter entered the cage. He wasn't that much bigger than Greg. Nor was he that much heavier. Ecklie wanted to give him a slight chance at winning this. Who liked watching a fight when all it took was one punch to knock him out before the first round even started?

A bell rang and the other man came at him. He dodged the flying hands, just as Nick had taught him and sent his own punch, landing a small bruise on the man's arm.

He didn't entirely understand Ecklie's reasons for the fights, but he would never give up. Nick wouldn't lose his dream job because he lost a fight.

As he sidestepped the man dressed more appropriately in shorts and a tank top, he knew he was getting better at this. With one fight a week, how could he not? Nick would be proud of him.

A fist to the back of his head knocked him to the ground, and he had to blink to see straight. Swiping his legs around he brought the other fighter down with him. The fight turned from a boxing match to a street fight in the space of one moment as he fought to stay on top and keep the man's teeth away from his skin.


	5. vignette 5

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #5

_February 2004_

"How do you ask a friend and coworker if his husband's abusing him, when you're the Captain of the LVPD?" Jim Brass asked Catherine as they stood outside the break room.

Inside, they saw Nick sit down on the couch and a battered Greg curl up beside him. Nick wrapped an arm around him, brushing Greg's long curls of brown hair away from his face.

Catherine shook her head. "I don't... I don't know. Is that what you're thinking? We know Nick. He wouldn't do that. Would he?"

"I don't want to suggest it. But look at Greg. He hasn't gotten any better. I keep seeing new bruises. New band-aids."

"Neither of them want to talk about it. But if Nick was abusing him... he's... he goes to him willingly, he's comfortable and relaxed around Nick."

"But when he's with others?"

"He's more stiff. But not scared, really."

Brass sighed and watched Nick's gentleness with Greg. Even from their distance and through the glass wall he could still detect the painful, yet loving, expression in his eyes as he watched over his now sleeping partner.

"Ecklie's being a jerk forcing Greg to work when he's this beat up," Catherine said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, but look how long this has been going on. If he can't work, someone's got to hire a new DNA tech."

"I don't want to think Nick's hurting him. I really don't."


	6. vignette 6

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #6

_March 2004_

Nick sat in his truck, his fingers curled tight around the steering wheel. He would be here for a very long time. Watching Greg leave him and get into an SUV with fake plates was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He didn't know when he'd see him again. Didn't know if he'd even come back this time. He never knew if he'd come back.

Months ago he would have cried. There were plenty of times he had. But now, he couldn't. He could only pray Greg made it back to him alive.

He knew Greg was getting better at fighting. He came home with fewer cuts and bruises. But it did nothing to quell the fear that rose within his heart. It did nothing to ease his broken heart every time he saw Greg stumble towards him a hurt man. It didn't matter that he was getting better at fighting. What mattered was that they were still hurting him.

Nick wondered what this would do to Greg in the long run. Wondered how long this would go on. And if Greg outlived this torture, what would he be like in the end? He'd known brain dead boxers, had heard the horrific stories. But Greg wasn't even a professional boxer. He was a scientist. A beautiful, wonderful man. Would he be the same person when this was over?


	7. vignette 7

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #7

_April 2004_

Nick set the cup of Blue Hawaiian coffee on Greg's desk in the DNA lab as he sat on the edge, looking down at his husband. He ran his fingers along his jaw, looking him over to see how well his face was healing.

Another fighter broke Greg's nose again. Nick wasn't an ER doctor, but he did his best to patch him up. And he wasn't even sure he'd done it right the first time.

"How's your shift going?" Greg asked.

"Rough. You doing ok?"

"Yeah."

"Warrick's waiting for me, so I can't stay. But I'll call you in an hour."

"Sure."

They never used to talk this much at work, even when they were still in the honeymoon stage of their marriage. One call an hour and their breaks taken together since the fights began just wasn't enough for Nick anymore. He needed to make sure Greg was ok at all times of the night, no matter how important his case was or what their coworkers said behind their backs.

"Call me if you need me?"

"I will."

"I love you, Greg."

Greg's eyes closed and he took Nick's hand and held it against his bruised face, keeping Nick there for just a few more stolen moments.

"I love you too."


	8. vignette 8

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #8

_May 2004_

He sent a hardened fist into the other man's temple, sending him to the ground. When the man didn't get up he knew he'd won the fight again. This time. But there was always a next time.

No one cheered for him. Ecklie scowled in the corner of his eye. He didn't know who most of the crowd was, but they were on Ecklie's side. He knew that much.

When he was led from the cage, two large muscled men on either side of him, Ecklie stopped them from taking him too far.

"You've hung on longer than I ever expected you would, Sanders," the hated man spoke. "But you will die eventually, and I will get Stokes all to myself."

And that was all it took for Greg to determine he'd fought his last match for this man. He lunged forward, pulling out of the grips of the men holding him. With the last ounce of his strength he attacked Conrad Ecklie and threw punch after punch into the man's ugly face.

All around him he could hear pandemonium erupting from his sudden outburst, but all he saw was Ecklie's face reminding him that Nick had to take care of him all the time now... and he was through with it.

Letting his anger out, he pounded into the face below him, not even caring when the body stopped struggling to get free, when Conrad stopped calling for help, for someone to get the horrid wretch off him. There was blood spattering everywhere and Greg wasn't even sure if it was his own or not.


	9. vignette 9

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #9

_May 2004_

Nick was in his truck waiting to see Greg stumble towards him when the phone call came in. Brass was on the other end. Something about a fight and his husband gone crazy. Lots of blood. Greg wouldn't let anyone else near him.

Nick didn't listen to the rest. He threw the phone away once he'd heard the address of the abandoned warehouse and put the truck in drive. He never saw stop lights. He never even saw green lights for that matter. He saw the route to Greg, to the place they'd been taking him, hurting him, and it didn't matter that several police cars were now behind him, sirens screaming for him to pull over.

If anything had happened to Greg... if this was the time Greg wasn't coming home with him... he would kill Ecklie. No thinking necessary. It wouldn't matter if they threw him in prison. Or gave him the lethal injection.

Arriving at the address, Brass met him outside as he threw off the officer's arms that tried to stop him. Their sirens were still running with their doors open where they'd stopped just behind his truck.

"You know how many laws you broke getting here?" Brass asked. "You were all the way across town, and in this city it would take a normal person at least half an hour to forty five minutes getting here. You took ten."

"Where's Greg?"

Nick pushed past the detective intent on finding his husband.

"He's inside. Grissom's with him though he's not talking."

"Grissom?"

"He was at a crime scene near here. So he didn't have to speed to get here so fast."

Greg was sitting up, hunched over, staring at the ground when Nick fell to his knees before him. Tears were running down his face, but he didn't notice. He took Greg in his arms and held him close, careful as always, not to hurt him.

"Nicky? Oh my God, Nicky?" Greg repeated over and over as if he was surprised by his presence.

"It's ok G. I'm here. I'm here. I love you. You're gonna be ok. Come on, let's get you home."

"He needs to go to a hospital, Nick," for the first time he registered their supervisor standing nearby, watching them.

Nick's posture changed without a second thought, as if to shield Greg from Grissom, to protect him.

"No. He'll be fine. I'm taking him home."

Gil watched them with interest for a moment, scrutinizing everything before he spoke again, "You've been taking care of him this whole time so no one would find out about these fights, haven't you?"

"No one can find out... No one can know..." Greg mumbled.

"Come on, we'll take you to the hospital, make sure you're ok, and then you can go home. I promise," Brass stood beside Grissom, appearing as if from thin air.

Nick looked down at the shivering man in his arms, knowing he couldn't be Greg's doctor for something this serious, even though he had been for a long time. But now that the fights were over...

"Alright, I'll take him."

Greg looked up at him with large brown eyes and he placed a gentle kiss on his husband's forehead.

"It's gonna be ok, G. We can finally have a professional look at your nose, see if I did ok."

"I can breathe." Greg leaned into him. "You did fine."


	10. vignette 10

CSI: The Fighter: vignette #10

_May 2004_

Captain Jim Brass was almost afraid to walk into the hospital room. Most situations he could deal with. Hardened criminals getting their arms reset after a street fight. He could deal with that. But this? He knew these two, had worked with them for years, even attended their wedding.

And he knew what waited behind the door. Heartbreak. He'd seen it before, in similar cases. Their eyes would always hold a haunted look that told the world everything they could have, and almost, lost. He wasn't sure he could deal with that. But he had no choice.

When he entered the room he wasn't surprised to find Greg resting comfortably in Nick's arms. Nick was holding him close, protectively.

Brass was reminded of spunky Greg just after they'd been married and for years, even, before then. And he realized Greg hadn't been his old self in a long time. Now, he looked weak and fragile, as if a mere touch would make him crumble.

"Hey guys," he greeted.

"Hey," Nick was the only one to greet him back.

"I'm going to try to make this as brief as possible," he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down, pulling out his notebook and pen. "We talked to some of the people there though most of them didn't know anything about what was going on. They were just there to watch the fights. Tried to talk to Ecklie, but he's down for the count at the moment and the doc's not sure how long it'll be before he comes to, if ever."

"Good," Greg mumbled.

Nick absently rubbed his arm in a soothing gesture but didn't say anything.

"Talked to the other fighter, he said Ecklie was gonna pay him five hundred bucks to fight you, Greg. Said something about Conrad wanting to get you out of the way so he could have some guy that you were tight with. Now, come on, we all know that doesn't make an ounce of sense. So, why don't you tell me the truth because I'm getting tired of the run around."

Greg went from weak and vulnerable to charged and angry in a split second. He broke free from Nick's arms and lunged toward the detective intent on attacking him.

Brass scrambled from his chair and did a quick half-run backwards to escape the crazed man he thought he knew.

"That stupid son-of-a-bitch will never understand what real love is!" Greg screamed.

Nick moved fast, grabbing Greg and pulling him back into a tight embrace he couldn't escape from.

With tears building in his eyes he looked at Brass. "This is what he's become," Nick whispered, harsh pain evident in his voice. "This is what Ecklie did to my husband. The reasons why don't matter anymore."

* * *

_"Love is when you care for someone else more than you care for yourself." _

-Jenny Hayden _Starman_

_"Love is a noble act of self-giving, offering trust, faith, and loyalty. _

_The more you love, the more you lose a part of yourself, _

_yet you don't become less of who you are; _

_you end up being complete with your loved ones." _

-unknown


End file.
